


K is for Knowing When

by eilidh17



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen, Kidfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:27:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8691178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eilidh17/pseuds/eilidh17
Summary: Even the shortest time together can mean the most.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Fig Newton's Kidfic Alphabet Soup

**K is for Knowing When**

 

His crib is cold.  The sheets are scratchy under my touch as though their softness died the day he did.  Nothing in this room feels warms anymore.  Not the soft toys he loved, nor the pillow that still holds his scent trapped in its cover, and especially not the blue satin-edged blanket that he would curl up with at night.

 

This room that was his sanctuary, a place he gave so much life and character to, is now just another set of walls in a house that has lost its spirit.

 

We all knew he wouldn't live.  The proverbial writing was on the walls the day he was returned to us a child.  A hideous freak of nature was my first thought, and all I wanted to do was run away from this mess as fast as I could.

 

Who was I kidding?  The eyes are the windows to the soul, and his eyes told me all I need to know.

 

He was still in there... and he needed my help more than ever.

 

Curiously, I wonder if he knew his life would be measured in weeks and not years as it should have been.  Whatever technology had been used to turn him this way had also been terribly flawed.  The SGC's best and brightest didn't have a clue how to fix it. 

 

Why is it that in your greatest moment of need your allies have more important things to do?

 

They'll help when they can.

 

So, while the creeping chill of winter stole our breaths away, forces larger than we could compete with stole his.  And as the days passed, our time with him grew ever shorter.

 

Cradled against my chest, fingers rubbing and teasing the fine satin binding of his beloved blanket, we sat together and watched as the sun set over chilly day, and ushered in what would be our last night together.

 

His fingers stilled, breathing slowed until I could barely see his chest rise, and with a soft sigh, his eyes met mine briefly and fluttered closed.  Never to open again.

 

 _Quem deus vult perdere_.  Whom the gods would destroy.

 

Like a cosmic joke we never got the punch line to, he has been taken from us and we are left to pick up the pieces of our live and move on.  So, with his blanket pressed against my chest, I close the door on this house... and on his life.

 

"Goodbye, Jack."

 


End file.
